If you're still taking requests, could you do something with Hana and Lucio?

“One of those mornings, huh?”

Lúcio grimaces and nods,
directing his wheelchair forward and angling it so it aligns with the
armchair Hana is curled up in. “Couldn’t be bothered,” he admits,
reaching out to pat the knobbly curl of his knee. “Not like anything
huge is happening today.”

Hana hums agreement and passes him a
controller, exiting out of her game and switching to multiplayer. The
base is quiet - most of the older agents are out somewhere, nearby in
France if Hana remembers correctly, so she and
Lúcio have the place to themselves. Zenyatta and Hanzo are out and about
somewhere, but for the most part, they’ve been keeping to themselves,
or at least Hana hadn’t seen them in the mess or anywhere else.

“You
eaten anything?” he asks once the loading screen comes up, matching
them with some random competitor across the world. Hana is using Genji’s
account for at least some anonymity;
Lúcio plays under the name Frogger to avoid attention.

“Well,
you’ve given your stomach plenty of time to digest, so I’m sure more
food won’t hurt. Besides, you’ve been at this for hours.”

“Two,”
she corrects. At his raised eyebrow, she places her hand across her
chest, over her heart, and says, “I swear it was only two. I got up
around eight or so today.”

“And how long were you up streaming?”

“I got seven hours of sleep! You don’t need to parent me,
Lúcio.”

“Just checking,” he says, dragging out the ‘u’, and Hana
rolls her eyes, unable to keep a smile off of her face. “Can’t blame me
for it, it’s part of my job description.”

“I know. I appreciate
it, really.” He gives her an unimpressed look and she throws her hands
up in the air, temporarily abandoning her controller. “What do you want
from me, a declaration that you’re the best or something?”

“That doesn’t sound too bad, actually.”

“If I stroke your ego any more, it will fill the entire room.”

“Ow,
harsh! You wound me.” He barks out a startled laugh when she reaches
over to whack his shoulder. “Okay, sorry! Jeez, so ungrateful.”

“I just said thank you!”

“You said you appreciated it, totally different thing.”

“Gomabseubnida,” she says with a chuckle. “Happy?”

“Marginally,” Lúcio
says, though he sounds and looks pleased. “Now let’s kick ass so we can eat.”

“As if it was ever in doubt,” Hana replies, and they share a smile and it’s game on.

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Born crying and red-faced on the eve of a booming thunderstorm to a mother that surely had no chance at delivering a living child, it seemed determined merely by the momentous occasion of her birth that Margaret was meant to be something more than merely mortal. As the only child of Carrick and Eileen Callahan, a well-respected doctor running a reputable practice in Belfast, Ireland, she enjoyed a spoiled and eventful childhood filled with love and joy structured with staunch Catholic traditionalism and discipline. Even as but a girl in her most tender years, Margaret expressed a fierce vibrance that seemed to burn bright with the blessings of God and the folly of man by the day’s passing: though in possession of the voice of an angel that could sway even the most stoic to tears, so too did the mischief of youth and temptation make her fonder of trouble than she ever had been of church.

i finally figured out what was bothering me about the song in skam lol o helga natt/o holy night has a completely different name in french + we have a song with a title that is the translation of holy night but its another song with another melody and my mind just couldnt connect the dots for a while lmao